


Not Real

by cupidty11



Category: Invader Zim
Genre: Aliens, Angst, Bullying, Dreams, Friendship, Gen, Humans, Other, destroy, except not really, friends - Freeform, helping, imaginary, not real?, one sided Dib/Gretchen, real?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-04-25
Updated: 2012-08-02
Packaged: 2017-11-04 07:15:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 10,021
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/391192
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/cupidty11/pseuds/cupidty11
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's been years since Dib saw Zim and time is healing his wounds. Everyone tells the human to move on. Zim wasn't real. Yet, something keeps telling Dib that that isn't true. Maybe it's the hallucinations. Maybe it's the fact that he feels big magenta eyes on him all the time. Or maybe it's because the scars are still there. Whatever it is, Dib refuses to let it go.</p><p>//Canceled//</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Not Real

The sun was too hot as per usual in the nameless little town, the grass dry and nearly brown, leaves long dead floating across the ground as if reluctant to touch it fully and yet the wind just kept carrying it along until it got stuck on some long forgotten piece of gum or crushed underfoot of one useless bumbling teenager or another.

Dib was almost content sitting in the heated afternoon or at least that what he resolutely told himself. With his girl friend leaning on his chest, hands around her waist and sipping on poop cola, he was feeling almost complete. Almost like he could lose himself in the normalcy of it all and forget for a little bit that his life was all but falling apart at the seams now. 

Key word; almost. Because even as Gretchen blabbered about something meaningless and normal, he felt it. The shivery sensation of being watched. Of big, false eyes that probed the edges of this monotone dream that was too good to be true. 

They were following his every move, silently mocking the easy way he smiled, poking fun at the way he pretended to be enjoying himself. On instinct the teenager's eyes roved the trees around them, searching for green skin, pink clothes.

Dib shook his head, trying to shake the feeling off. Zim wasn't watching him. Zim was gone. Zim wasn't real. This, he thought holding the girl closer, was real. She giggled and he hated to think it but the high pitch got on his nerves, scratched them raw. 

It wasn't low, building into a tremulous crescendo that echoed off any surface, daring to stand out in even the loudest conditions. It wasn't cruel or promising unbearable agony. It was most certainly not supernatural, layered with arrogance and pure loneliness, distrust. 

No, it was cute, sweet and delicate. His stomach rolled but he kissed her neck anyway and felt the imaginary gaze sharpen on the action. And as predicted it made Dib feel guilty and more edgy. 

"Dib?" He pulled himself out of the haze he was in to focus on the purple hair, the big innocent eyes, and now braceless teeth. Yes, she was pretty indeed with smooth skin and a smattering of freckles. 

"Mm? Oh, sorry. I –uh was just thinking." Gretchen studied her boyfriend's face with the expertise of years. She noted the small things like the stress lines, the uncertainty in his eyes, the defensive way he held his shoulders and knew. 

"About…Zim." Just saying the name had the girl feeling ill. Dib bit his lip nervously and that's all the assurance she needed. Pulling away from her boyfriend, she stood with a huff and crossed her arms. "Dib. This is getting ridiculous. It's been three years. I would've thought you'd forgotten about that by now."

His brow furrowed, kind of grateful that she'd been the one to pull away. It would've only angered her more to know he'd been thinking about making an excuse about needing space or something. "I-I can't help it sometimes, Gretch. It's just…I swear that sometimes he just feels so—"

"Real." She finished, eyes narrowing to see the way Dib's gaze went far away as it always did when he thought about that creep. "Yeah, I know. Zita knows. Your dad knows. The whole fucking town knows, Dib! But, he's not. He never was. You've been told this hundreds of times before. Why doesn't it just sink in?"

Maybe she was asking too much of him, but Gretchen had had it. Being with Dib was all she'd ever really wanted. But, this was impossible. Impossible to be with a guy who was thinking of someone else all the time. 

Dib stayed on the ground, picking up a twig to twirl it in between his fingers. "Five years, Gretchen. Five years of my life I spent thinking he was real, being hurt by him and hating his guts—"

"But, it wasn't him, Dib! It was a figment. It was you hurting yourself with sticks like that and knives and hating nothing other than a demented thought. You made Zim to not be so lonely. You created Zim to feel better about yourself Dib. But, he was never real. He'll never be real and you're going to have to wake up and realize that if you can't let him go then you're going to miss out on some good opportunities." 

With that Gretchen, sniffled and turned to jog away through the park to get home before she burst out sobbing. Man it was hard having a psycho for a boyfriend. Dib watched her go, not even opening his mouth to try to stop her. It was useless anyway when she got like this.

The teen cracked the stick in his hands in two before dropping it into the dead grass. He shut his eyes, trying to make himself believe it. Trying once again to not feel the devious gaze that bore into him from afar. Always from afar. Why was it so hard to forget the alien? To understand that he was part of an illusion his younger self had created to try to bring some self worth to an otherwise horrible life. 

But, for five years he'd believed with everything inside of his small body that there was an alien invader in their midst. But, when he'd went to spy on Zim's house and found nothing…no evidence that anything had ever been there. No trace of paint or any disturbed dirt. No message, no note of goodbye. Just gone. It had been the worst day of his life.

He'd been cationic, utterly inconsolable. Finally they just submitted him to the Crazy House for Boys and left him for a year or so. After many, many hours of counseling they finally dragged what had to be the truth out of him; Zim wasn't real. Aliens didn't exist.  
'But, what about these scars?' Dib had asked, trying to find some loophole. Self mutilation they'd said. Delusional hallucinations.

'Everyone else saw him too. Everyone else knew Zim as the crazy green kid.' They'd searched the records and said that someone named that had gone to skool. But, he was certainly not green skinned or short.

Dib had no arguments and he had no proof. Zim, the biggest part of his childhood was a farce. It'd been three years and he could almost go a day without glancing at his cameras to try to catch a glimpse of the place where the house used to be, could almost sit in skool without looking across the room to meet disguised eyes and most of the time his dreams were of normal things. 

He leaned his head on his knees, glasses skewing. So why did Dib feel as if something was missing? A large empty spot in his chest, his memories and knowledge. They said that he made Zim up. Could he have made up something so intricate? The Irken armada, their plans for universal conquest, a whole disguise, a house, a creepy green dog, their battles and their banter. Somehow he didn't think so. 

"Not real. Not real. Not real." The words they'd tried to hard to drill into his mind. He opened his eyes and stared into the dense trees around them. It had gotten dark without his notice and the moon was full, allowing enough light to see the clearing he was in. Shivering, Dib moved to stan—a flash of magenta in the darkness of the dead foliage. He gasped, and took a frantic step forward when any normal person would be stepping backwards.

Immediately he stopped himself. "Not real. Not real." Dib held himself in place, ears still perked however for any noise. A small shuffle, the sound of snapping twigs. "Zim?!" He yelled before he could process just what he was doing.

A hand slapped over his own mouth to make sure he didn't talk anymore. This was ridiculous. Screaming in the dark at trees. Oh not to mention it was a full moon. People were going to be talking tomorrow. 

With a shuddery sigh, Dib glanced only once more at the forest before turning to walk home. Grass crunched underfoot, the sound nerve rackin-- _"Leaving so soon, Dib-Thing?"_

Dib froze, heart beating so incredibly loud in his ears he was sure that it could be heard from miles around. That voice…it was so familiar. The nickname even more so. Demeaning and mocking. Oh, how he'd missed the sound of it. Dib didn't dare turn around, even though the feel of Irken eyes kept him nearly immobile anyhow. "Not real. Not real…" He whispered harshly, hands clutching into fists. "Not—"

 _"Zim is real."_ The voice came so much closer this time, nearly right behind him that it had the teenager spinning on his heels, reaching for something, anything to grab onto.

To even touch that hallucination, to know that he wasn't insane. But, he dropped to the ground instead, fingers digging into nothing but the brown grass, the dirt getting under his nails. 

The world was silent then; no more shuffling, no more voice and Dib's face crumbled, tears streaming down his cheeks to fall to the dusty earth where it soaked it up desperately. For a minute…he'd almost believed.


	2. Pain

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> _"Zim knows what you need, Dib-Human…." He hissed, eyes turning red with some hidden emotion. Dib didn't struggle, but his vision was swiftly becoming blurry.  
>  This was bad, common sense screamed. But it was a dream. A wonderful dream. The alien leaned down, jade lips brushing over an ear, sending jolts of pleasure down his spine. "Pain."_

People talked, they talked of the insane boy who was looking rather skinny today, hair out of place, clothes wrinkled. 

They talked about his deteriorating mental state, feeling sorry for his girlfriend who had to deal with his episodes. 

Poor Girl. 

They talked about Dib when he sat five feet away. He pretended to be oblivious, absorbed in his pencil. As short and bitten as his nails. Of course he was not, he heard every word but they had long since ceased to cause him any real discomfort or anger. 

Nothing bothered him anymore, now that he thought of it. Ms.Bitters droned on, voicing her opinion on the holocaust. Once it might've interested him. His hand would be the first to shoot up into the air when a question was asked, and he would scream the answer before he was called on. People used to hate him for that. 

Quickly, dull brown eyes flitted across the aisles of fellow students, who weren't listening as per usual to the teacher. They used to hate him for a lot of things. He'd been a target, some sort of sick dart game they would play when bored. 

Throw paper, throwing pencils and pens. The vibrant younger boy, Dib would've stood up on his seat, despite the taunts, despite the missiles of school supplies and shouted about what he believed in. He'd been so tiny, a giant head. Something else to make fun of. 

The pencil twirled easily between long, ivory finger tips. He was practically a mute now. Speaking only when spoken to. The whole thing was preferable to being picked on. Now they just pitied him. Maybe five years ago, that knowledge would've hurt his pride. Maybe enough to spur Dib into action. 

Now, he felt nothing. An empty sort of ache. It was what you felt when the doctor injected you with anesthesia. Dib felt numb. 

Just like every day since they put him under after he'd bitten the worker who'd tried to restrain his rage. When Dib had found out his whole life had been a delusion.

 

\--  
 __

_Zim was closer than Dib could ever remember him being. These dreams, the ones that weren't normal, always left him feeling bereft, aroused, angry and depressed._

_But, the object of his obsession kept to the edges; sitting in the corner of his room, standing just far enough away so he couldn't reach, whispering things that would've made him blush with rage had he been awake._

_Tonight the Irken was on his bed, on him. Legs spread as he straddled the teenager, arms next to Dib's head. The un-known fabric of his uniform brushed over his cheeks._

_Magenta eyes stared directly at him, and it sent cruel shivers all over his body. Eagerly, he waited for the moment when Zim spoke. He always did in these dreams. Sometimes only two words. Other times a whole ranting speech._

_"I know you feel numb. Zim can feel it as well." Gloves squeaked in the darkness, as Zim placed his hand against Dib's chest. The pressure was so welcome, so wonderful that amber eyes nearly rolled back into their sockets. The boy didn't respond._

_It was impossible to in the dreams. He'd tried and failed more than enough times to know. "You're pitiful now. Giving into the stupid weaknesses." Zim situated himself better on the human's lap, other hand going to tunnel into the dark mass of hair. It sparked with static._

_Zim had never touched him in the dreams. This was…this was…amazing. "Poor Dib-Stink, is all alone. He's broken and no one cares." The alien mocked._

_With a quick jerk, the fingers in his hair wrenched back, the strands tugging on his scalp painfully. Dib jerked, a yell of agony getting caught in his throat. The other hand slid up slowly, to curl around his neck, gently cutting off his air._

_"Zim knows what you need, Dib-Human…." He hissed, eyes turning red with some hidden emotion. Dib didn't struggle, but his vision was swiftly becoming blurry. This was bad, common sense screamed. But it was a dream. A wonderful dream. The alien leaned down, jade lips brushing over an ear, sending jolts of pleasure down his spine. "Pain."_

_Then everything was on fire. Magnificent fireworks exploded behind his irises, coloring the grey world green and pink. There was so much agony, so many times he wished he could scream, or at least whimper._

_It was reality shattered, the sharp pieces cutting him over and over again in rapid succession, making him bleed until there was no more meaning to anything._

_It was laughter, earsplitting giggles of unbearable glee that he couldn't get away from and they burst his eardrums._

_It was pain. And Dib didn't feel numb. He felt wonderful._

Waking up was always difficult. Like leaving heaven willingly. Dib ached everywhere from head to toe, mind and body finally entering wakefulness. 

Cautiously, he moved an arm and winced. Science told him that he'd hurt himself again as was a normal thing for people like him. Sitting was one of the most painful things he'd ever done and it was welcome. 

For the first time in what felt like forever, Dib was feeling again. People would talk more at skool when he ended up shuffling down the hallways, and they would talk when he wore his long sleeved shirts to cover the bruises. They would assume he was cutting. They would talk about him even though he was right there in front of their faces. 

Dib's eyes narrowed, a dull spark lighting his eyes.

Well, fuck them.


	3. Coward

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Sorry, I'm late Ms.Bitters. I was outside trying to capture the Snow demons." His voice rang out like it had so long ago, with the excuses he'd used back then too. His classmates seemed lost for words although whether it was out of shock that Dib was still alive and actually speaking or because they were trying to figure out what the hell a snow demon was, was anyone's guess.

The vibrancy of a new day seemed to be lost on all the adolescent children spilling into the Skool that day. They blabbered in the way they normally did, talking about the topics that seemed interesting; Sleepovers, fashion, gossip, sports ECT. It was all sorts of normal. The girls wore frilly scarves to fend off the nippy, autumn morning, which really did little against it. The boys wore basket ball shorts or really, low, low pants that nearly fell down when they walked. All was right with their calm, superficial world.

Dib glared at them all hatefully from a good distance of 30 feet. He leaned in this same spot every day. In sunshine, rain or snow to stare at his fellow students. He would make plans for the day, scheme in ways that no one here would ever understand. 

He took in the fresh air, the frost that cleansed away the constantly hovering scent of pollution. From here he could spot every escape, every person, and every horrible, boring thing. And for the last four years he'd stood here alone.

 

But, as the weeks had passed a voice had begun to accompany him. A teeny, tiny voice that sounded…well, it was higher than an average boy's. It had an accent that made it thick. It spoke with arrogance and authority. It sounded like Zim. 

The teenager ran a bare, scarred hand down his face as he took a deep breath. The carbon curled out over the frigid air and created a fine mist that dissipated within seconds. Dib didn't want to admit that he was hearing this voice. Had been hearing it in increasing volume and frequency since that night in the park. The bell rang and the adolescents rushed inside, eager to be out of the cold. The gawky teen stayed where he was, wrapping his faithful trench coat tighter around himself. 

_"What's a matter Dib-Stink? Afraid?"_

Like a wind breeze the voice of his old enemy floated out into the air, hovering instead of disappearing like his breath had done. Logic told him not to respond to it. All those hours of therapy demanded that he not so much as make a motion to suggest that he had ever heard it. 

But, instinct demanded something entirely different of him. 

"Of course not! I can do this!" He snarled, angrily, sticking his button nose up in the air, puffing out his chest with pride. But, then of course he realized a few seconds later what he'd done and scowled before shuffling off towards the entrance of the learning establishment that had been his prison for over 4 years. No longer. Today he starts a new day. A new goal. No one would keep him quiet any more. No one ordered him around. 

The dream from that night…the one that had broken his numb shield was still in effect. He no longer wanted to sit by and let them ignore him. He didn't want to be invisible anymore. He longed to be the kid he was so long ago. At least back then he'd been alive, if not happy.

Right now he was half-alive AND un-happy. He ignored the faint evil laughter that seemed to flutter around him.

Aware that he was well over five minutes late to class because of his dawdling, Dib was prepared to slip into the room and just hope that like normal his invisible demeanor held up.

_"Humph, I knew you didn't have it in you, Coward."_

The human nearly bit his lip, clenching his hands into tight fists. 

"Fuck you." He hissed, spitefully. "I can do whatever the hell I want." Turning away from nothing, he shoved open the door so hard that it banged against the wall and he marched inside, chin held high. Every head in the room turned towards him, nearly forty pairs of eyes staring in surprise. He fought the urge to apologize and shrink over to his seat. 

"Sorry, I'm late Ms.Bitters. I was outside trying to capture the Snow demons." His voice rang out like it had so long ago, with the excuses he'd used back then too. His classmates seemed lost for words although whether it was out of shock that Dib was still alive and actually speaking or because they were trying to figure out what the hell a snow demon was, was anyone's guess.

As if it was normal, Dib sauntered over to his desk and plopped down, removing his notebooks and textbooks. Ms.Bitters (how she was still alive, was also anyone's guess), scowled in the teenager's direction before barking, "Whatever! Class, open up your books to page 110. We will be learning about Airplanes and the horrible contributions they have made to society." 

After a few more seconds of pure silence, the rest of the children obeyed. With the obnoxious turning of pages came whispers and those whispers changed to normal speaking and then full blown conversations about the unstable kid, what was his name, oh Gretchen is dating him, oh um, Oh yeah I remember him from elementary skool, That's Dib.

Dib. The name swept through the mass of students. The ones who'd known him in his younger days began to tell the tale of his sad life and all about his strange obsession with the paranormal that ended him in the Crazy House for boys when he'd freaked out the day he'd discovered that there was no such thing as aliens.

Dib stayed calm, breathing deeply and began taking notes on their lesson. When the first question was asked his hand shot up and before he was called on, he answered the question earning several glares from the kids who had also had their hands up. He'd gotten the answer right of course, and he attempted to ignore them. 

This was what he'd wanted. And soon, if this went as he expected, then the news would get around the whole skool by lunch, that the crazy kid was back. Soon, the first names would be whispers behind his back. They would become braver and the names would become common on everyone's lips, enough to be spoken out loud and in his face. The threats, the objects thrown, and then the outright physical abuse. 

Dib's lips curled up into a cruel smirk, glancing down at his sheet of sliced tree shavings. Unbidden, his burnt orange eyes darted over to the opposite side of the room that even after all these years was empty. Of course as always it was empty. And as always a cold lump of pain and rage settled in his throat. 

Zim was gone. Zim wasn't real. Just his voice in his head. Just the scars on his skin. The memories of their war.


	4. Get Up!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Suddenly, a hand curled itself around his trench coat and yanked him backwards. Dib gasped and tried to keep his balanced. Failed. He went tumbling and the ground was painful, as always. It almost felt like a reunion though.

If Dib had thought that making himself visible to the world again would stop The Voice, he was sorely mistaken. Zim kept talking; shoving ideas into his mind, making him get angry, making everything around him seem intolerable. 

People ticked him off to an insurmountable degree. His peers, his teachers, his family…even Gretchen were morons. Skool barely held his attention. Food looked disgusting. All made from oil, grease, sugar. 

For all intensive purposes, his life should've been torturous. It should've sucked.   
Dib felt more alive than ever. 

On the wind, there it was again, _'You're dawdling. Hurry.'_

"Hey. Shut the fuck up. I'm doing what you want."

_'Yes. But, slowly. Too slowly for Zim's taste.'_

Dib snorted, wrapping his coat closer around him for double protection; against the hazardous pelting rain and against the Irken's words. As the days went by, Dib found it harder and harder to believe that Zim could be another result of his over active imagination. How could he create something so…perfect? So seamless? It was like Zim was there with him. The accent was correct. The right pitch. Filled with just enough hatred and arrogance. 

Was the moron playing a joke on him? Was he real and just hiding for his own purposes? 

"Then why don't you do it yourself, oh Almighty Zim?" He hissed, mockingly. Teasing the alien was too much fun. It brought him insurmountable joy.

 _'Silence, Puny Brained Dirt Child! And just do what I say.'_

The human just smirked gleefully, smugly. He'd won this argument, whether Zim admitted it or not. 

Over the hill he'd been trudging up, it came into sight; the big, abandoned part of town that once used to house tons of businesses and houses. At least before Zim's slow explosion blew it all up. The people of this town were too lazy to actually try to rebuild it. So here it sat decaying and growing ever more unfixable. 

He noted that Zim was quiet. "Admiring your handy work?"

_'Hmm.Yes. It is disastrous, is it not?'_

"Oh yeah. Flawless. Now which building?"

 _'Do you ever listen? No wait—don't answer that. I know you don't.'_ A long suffering sigh. _'Your father's old laboratory.'_

Dib nodded and began the perilous trek down the hill. He scampered through the blackened streets, ignoring the harsh clicks of animals disturbed, passed his old Skool. Then there it was, through the haze of left over ash and smoke. The building used to be white, made mostly of the hardest sustaining metal. It was mainly intact. Only the windows had been destroyed. 

It wasn't nessacary to break in. The doors had been left unlocked. As expected there was the obligatory vandalism. Some walls had been spray painted on and some stuff broken and thrown about. Other wise though it seemed to be okay. The entry way was vast and his footsteps echoed creepily. It made it sound like there was two people. Like four feet were stepping down on the metal floor. 

"Now where, genius?"

_'The elevators are probably not functional. Use the stair way.'_

Dib obeyed. 

He carefully stepped over the stairs and every now and then there was one that was missing. A few times the steps made dangerous creaking noises. That would have to be fixed. "How far down?"

_'Keep going until they stop.'_

And it took nearly an hour but, finally the stairs stopped, ending at a doorway with KEEP OUT and HAZERDOUS written in large, threatening letters. 

_'Get in.'_

Dib raised an eyebrow at the demanding tone. "Am I going to die?"

_'Only if you don't do what I say! Now move!'_

"Sheesh. Bossy." Dib had to pick the lock but eventually the door clicked open. The hinges creaked ominously and the human shoved it open the rest of the way. Taking a few steps inside, his mouth fell open; it was huge. Giant containers filled with who knows what kind of chemicals reached to the ceiling which had to be at least a hundred feet high. More stairs, the metal kind went around and around to each corner where computers and beakers and complicated machines sat. Here on the ground all kind of fancy equipment lay, waiting for someone to use it. It was a scientist's dream. 

_'Perfect.'_ Zim purred and Dib could almost see the weirdo rubbing his hands together. The rubber squeaked. Behind him the door shut with a final sounding click. _'It's perfect.'_

00--00

 

Another cold morning. He shivered in his leather trench coat, finally caving and zipping it all the way up to his throat. Light flakes fell around Dib, softly coating everything with a layer of white. To others it might be beautiful. Maybe a few months ago, he would've thought the same thing. But, a few months ago he hadn't had Zim screaming in his ear. 

_'Ugh! So cold! Pitiful planet with its annoying weather! How can you stand it?!'_

"I'm not Irken. Nor a cry baby."

_'Zim is not a cry baby! I am merely remarking upon how stupid this planet it.'_

"Uh huh. Well, you better get used to it. It's going to snow like this for most of the month."

_'WHAT?'_

"Yep. It's gonna get even colder and there's nothing you can do to sto—"

"Hey. Look who it is? The Freak."

Dib nearly slipped and fell, with how suddenly he froze. Zim grumbled at the un scheduled stop. "Fuck." He'd been so wrapped up in his conversation with the Irken that he hadn't paid any attention to the crowd of morons walking towards him. Hard to ignore them now. There were about five of them. All big. All bulky in their giant hoodies and droopy pants. Several had cigarettes in their mouths. The obvious leader had one, and was puffin away in it faster than it was intended for. 

Dib recognized the face; the large chin, several scars, near uni-brow. It was a face that all the girls swooned over. The face of the football captain. And cliché-ly the face that was now glaring down at Dib, like he wanted to chew him up and spit him out. 

Torque Smacky. 

Zim made a noise. It sounded like a choking noise. Probably one of disgust. Dib agreed. He felt a mixture of disgust and fear himself. "Uh. Hi." He said to the group. Burnt orange eyes flickered over them to the Skool which was about fifty feet away. So close. If he could make it, he could hide inside. 

Dib started edging towards the direction that would take him around the group. "Were you talking to yourself, Freak?" 

"I think he was. But, that's no big news."

"Who were you talking to, Weirdo?"

Torque dropped the burnt bud to the ground where it sizzled in the snow. "Probably his imaginary alien boyfriend." Several snickers met that comment. Dib scowled, but kept his mouth shut. He had a girlfriend. He wasn't gay. This was just them being morons. 

As long as they were busy, he could make a run for it. Zim rolled his eyes. _'You're being cowardly.'_

He fought not to talk back. Like the irken was right there. Instead he just rolled his eyes. "You mocking us, Fag?"

Dib fit his bottom lip. "No. Of course not. Yep. I'm a fag and uh, crazy and stuff." He nodded. Maybe if he just went along with it, they would get tired and leave him alone. Still his pride was practically crying now. The fact that he could feel Zim's judgment didn't help either. 

"He IS Torque. The little Freak is mocking us."

"I say we give him a lesson in respect." Several cries of agreement. Dib mentally cursed and decide now was the time to put his escape plan into action. He broke into a run, the soles of his boots making tracks in the snow. From behind him he heard the group exclaim in confusion and outrage. 

"Get him!" 

"Fuck.Fuck.Fuuuuuck." Dib murmured, his ears perking when he heard them fast on his trail. A bublle of fear finally broke through and rose up into his throat. He forced it back down, swallowing hard. Zim was panting. 

_'They're on our trail.'_

"You think I can't tell that for myself?!"

_'Oh shut it, Monkey-Boy! We're close.'_

The Skool WAS close. Only twenty feet now. But, the morons were closer. His breath came out in little puffs of exertion. 

Suddenly, a hand curled itself around his trench coat and yanked him backwards. Dib gasped and tried to keep his balanced. Failed. He went tumbling and the ground was painful, as always. It almost felt like a reunion. Snow flew up and got in his hair, behind the already pathetic barrier of his coat. Damn that's cold, he thought in the midst of the hurt. He rolled for what felt like a good ten feet. 

He groaned and finally opened his eyes to look at the grey sky. From all around him he heard the laughter and high-fives. 

_'Get up! Get UP!'_

Despite his body's protests, Dib obeyed. His arms shook but he sat up and began to try to force himself to his feet. A kick to his back sent him forward again into the thin layer of snow. Under that snow was pavement and it scratched up his chin. Pain welled along with the blood. 

"Fuck." More cheers of encouragement. Morons. He shoved his hands against the ground and he was finally on his feet. The five bullies surrounded him, laughing and yelling taunts, threats. Promises. Dib scowled and began to search for another way out. 

Unexpectedly, another one jumped forward and shoved him. The ground was beginning to be familiar to him. A kick to his side was not. The sting blossomed up. A bruise would soon grow there. Two more to his other side. Dib groaned. 

"This freak is no fun. Pathetic."

"Easy."

"Faggot."

They aimed for his face this time and his lip split. One kick. Another kick. Cleats to his chin and temple. The salty tang of blood, warmer than everything else now.

 _'What are you doing!? Don't make this easy for them!'_ Dib groaned in agony, cracking his lids from where he'd squeezed them shut. Blurry. They'd broken his glasses too. Jade and magenta seemed to float above him in front of the backdrop of gray sky. _'What happened to you?! STAND UP! FIGHT!'_

Swiftly, a bubble hatred, rage took over him. His vision was red and it wasn't the blood any more. "Hey the Fag's finally doing something." Mock applause. Morons. _  
'The one with the blue hoodie is coming at you. Behind you. Grab his foot.'_

Dib did, feeling the rubber coated with dirt and snow in his bare palm. Instinct took over and he yanked. The Bully fell backwards onto the ground. There was a harsh sounding crack. Must've hit head first. 

"Shit! Benny!"

"The Freak got Benny!"

_'Good. The one to your left.'_

Dib's hands wrapped around the guy's fist. 

_'Twist it.'_

He twisted. There was a blood curdling scream, still he didn't stop. The bully tried to yank his hand away and failed. Dib's grip was stronger. 

"Alright! No more messing around!"

"Damn it! What the hell's up with this Fag?!"

_'Let him go. He's down. The next one will be harder. He looks tougher. But, he's limping. Kick his right knee.'_

Obeying, Dib's ears perked until he heard someone running at him. He spun on his heel and saw the blurry version of the newest opponent. His muscles clenched and out popped his foot. Dib kicked with all his might into the tall guy's knee. There was a loud pop, before the burly kid went down. 

"What?! Are you running?!" Torque screamed as his last buddy ran away.

"Fuck! Dude. I ain't stayin' around for this!" 

The leader growled at Dib and even though his vision was blurred the human could see the grimace. "Well, I'm not leaving, Freak. I can take you. You're pathetic."

_'Then come-'_

"Get me."


	5. Very Kind

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He should've known not to tempt fate. The second he strode into the classroom, Ms Bitters was on his ass, whiskered jaw flapping in a chorus of 'dooms' and 'delinquent'. Of course the longer he stood at the front being lectured, the more snickers rang out to affirm the fact that 1. They were all cruel and moronic and 2. Dib's old reputation was back in affect.

Torque yelled at the top of his lungs, anger and the cold making his face flushed. Dib couldn't see much of anything. His glasses were lost in the snow somewhere, making his vision blurry. Blood was curling on his tongue. The air was tart with it. The image of Smacky running at him was limited to the smudge of a light purple jersey and reddish skin. 

Still he didn't feel afraid. In fact he felt like he could take this bully, who had once terrified him, on with little to no effort. There was the sound of the bell ringing, wind whipping at his soaked coat, into his ears. And still Dib could hear Zim's smug, easy laughter.

_"Aim for the area that you human males seem to find extremely painful."_

No questions asked. Dib would obey. As Torque grew closer, yelling like a maniac. Dib brought his knee up in a motion too quick for Torque to comprehend and kneed him in the privates. The bully went down quickly, the breath shooting from his lungs. He made no noise for a few seconds, probably unable to. 

Dib knew how much that had to have hurt. 

Then there was a high-pitched whiney rage that seemed to come from the back of the bully's throat. 

_"Now, uppercut him."_

The teenager's fist made bruising contact with the brute's face. It hurt his hand so it must've hurt Torque. Or at least he hoped so. 

_"Good. He's wheezing. Now, finish him. Kick him in the temple."_

It was funny how mindlessly Dib complied with the order. Or at least it would've been, had he seen himself. One final hard hit and Torque was out. The moron was still breathing, which was a good thing, he assured himself. All around him there were fuzzy outlines of bodies. He'd taken down members of the football team. 

In whoosh of reality, Dib realized several things; he couldn't see much of anything, he was late for skool and he was really, really cold. Spasms shook him as his body attempted to heat the skinny frame, with no real result. 

_"Go pick up your glasses. They're near the one in the green."_ Dib stumbled over in that general direction, fumbled around the body until he found the damaged lenses. They were cracked but, better than nothing. 

Now that he could see, the circle of knocked out bullies brought him a smidgen of unease but, also a firm flood of smug superiority. He'd done that. With Zim's help of course. 

_"Come on, Dib-Brain. Your Skool has begun."_ The irken's voice was arrogant in Dib's ears. The boy shook his head at the sound, only to stop immediately because –ow- that wasn't a good idea. Instead of saying anything, the teenager just shuffled towards the building. He was already late, how much more trouble could he get into anyway?

000**--**--**000

He should've known not to tempt fate. The second he strode into the classroom, Ms Bitters was on his ass, whiskered jaw flapping in a chorus of 'dooms' and 'delinquent'. Of course the longer he stood at the front being lectured, the more snickers rang out to affirm the fact that 1. They were all cruel and moronic and 2. Dib's old reputation was back in affect. 

Or at least to the vast majority of the class. Not so to Gretchen, whose spot was at the front of the class. Dib could see her shrinking down in her seat, brown eyes kind of weepy with unleashed tears. But, Dib couldn't tell if she was trying not to cry because she was embarrassed by him or if she felt bad for him. 

It was hard to tell with her. It always had been. "Sit down, Dib!" The teacher shrieked. Dib made a face, but obliged, hobbling over to his seat in the very back of the class room. It hurt to sit in the plastic seat but he did it anyway, keeping his chin up.

As soon as the teacher got on with the lecture of the day, Dib ran a hand through his hair and tried to ignore the looks that kept being shot at him by one child or another. Instead, he yanked out a new piece of thankfully dry paper from his soaked backpack and began to work on the design for Zim's plan.

\--oo—

The day passed quickly and then it was lunch time. The doors sprang open and floods of hormonal teenagers roamed freely for a good 30 minutes. Some actually ate in the cafeteria. Others outside (yes even in the snow), or just walked around the halls. Dib tended to change every few days. Mainly he went where Gretch went. But, ever since that day in the park, where they'd fought about Zim, Dib hadn't seen much of her.

And he expected the same today. They'd been avoiding each other. Dib because he'd been so busy with his new found voice inside his head and well, he could only assume that Gretchen was pretty pissed and hurt. The teen had no experience with soothing hurt female feelings so, he didn't try. Maybe that was wrong but, he couldn't bring himself to care all that much. 

Yeah, Gretch was a good friend. Possibly his only friend, she'd also been the only one to ever really like him. Whether in a romantic or platonic way. But, Dib never was where he wasn't wanted. He refused to be. 

Only, when he turned the corner, eyes distracted on the piece of paper he was drawing on, he walked head first into a body. Unlike in the movies it wasn't real dramatic. Neither of them went flying or falling or dropping stuff. Dib had run into Gretchen and she'd expected it to happen. 

"Oh um, hi." Dib said, reluctantly taking in her two pigtails of messy purple locks, hastily put on makeup and rumpled clothes that fit nicely but, were always a bit too formal. It was all Gretchen. Even the tiny smattering of freckles and too huge brown eyes. Even the smell of 'Tropical Breeze' which he'd gotten her for her birthday last year. __

 _"Boring. Predictable. Tell me, Dib…is this really what you've been occupying your time with these last few years?"_ Zim's distain was obvious in every syllable. Dib bit his tongue to keep from lashing out at nothing. Or at least at the voice that no one else could hear. 

"Dib…you look horrible."

The teen blushed, gritting his teeth audibly. He'd seen a few glimpses of himself whilst running down the hall to class this morning. He could only guess that there were fantastic bruises, caked blood and dark rims around his eyes. "Um, yeah. I kind of got beat up this morning."

"Was it Torque again?"

 _"AGAIN?"_ Zim hissed, outraged. The high pitched noise made Dib wince. _"You've let this happen more than once?! How many times have you let that moron make you lower than him? Has he brought you to your knees? Oh, you pathetic—"_

"Shut up!" Dib finally growled, nearly punching his own head, although the voice came from his right.

"What?" Gretchen asked a shocked and hurt look on her face. It made her seem like a deer in the headlights. 

"Uh. No. Not um...look Gretchen. I'm fine. I'm actually in better condition than they are right now." His girlfriend looked doubtful but decided to take it. 

"Dib, actually, we need to talk."

 _"Oh Tallest…"_ Strange. That's what Dib had been thinking. _"I'm out."_

"Um. Okay." His brows furrowed. "What about?"

Gretchen frowned slightly, those little lines forming on her forehead. "About Us. About you. About Zim."   
_"Me? Okay Zim changes his mind. I'm curious."_ Zim's 's's always managed to sound like a snake hiss. It made sense though considering his weird tongue. 

"Alright. You start…" Dib shoved his hands, and the drawing, into his pockets, suddenly feeling very uncomfortable. Gretchen's fingers twisted themselves together. 

"Well, I just wanted to say that I'm sorry we fought Friday."

"Right. Apology accepted. I'm sorry too?" Why did it come out sounding like a question? He really hoped she didn't catch that part. She musnt've because her lips curled into a tiny, insecure smile. 

"It's okay. But, Dib…do you," The breath hitched in the back of her throat, the fingers kept on twisting. Dib tried very hard not to be impatient at the long pause. "do you…even still like….me?" The words were very forced out, very tiny and squeaky.

The teenage boy was thrown. He hadn't been expecting that. Not at all. It was on the tip of his tongue to say, 'Of course I do, Gretch.' But, something stopped him. A memory. The memory of two years ago when they'd first started going out. She'd asked him out. He'd accepted because he had never been asked out before. He'd been caught off guard and flattered. 

They'd gone on one date which had been fine. Then another and another. Dib thought she was smart and kind. Very kind.

And when they kissed for the first time, she had kissed him. It had been a quick peck on the lips, in the dark. The next one had been longer and eventually he gave in and kissed back. And it was good. It was fine. It was fun and---

_The alien leaned down, jade lips brushing over an ear, sending jolts of pleasure down his spine. "Pain." Then everything was on fire. Magnificent fireworks exploded behind his irises, coloring the grey world green and pink. There was so much agony, so many times he wished he could scream, or at least whimper. It was reality shattered, the sharp pieces cutting him over and over again in rapid succession, making him bleed until there was no more meaning to anything. It was laughter, earsplitting giggles of unbearable glee that he couldn't get away from and they burst his eardrums. It was pain. And Dib didn't feel numb. He felt wonderful._

"I-I-I…Gretch…" When had his voice become so low and sad? When had he become so fucked up? So fucked up so as to feel more for a figment? A angry, alien monster who brought him pain. Why couldn't he be normal and just like a girl who was nice and sweet and kind and…. _  
"Boring…so, so very boring, Dib-Head."_

"I'm sorry, Gretchen." The girl's eyes grew darker, and wider and sadder. Her shoulders drooped. It was like her whole being just kind of gave up. "I-I do…care for you. I want to be your friend, Gretche—"

"No, Dib. Just…"She took a deep breath and smiled a very watery smile. "I know you've got this thing for danger. You've got to have the excitement and the mystery. You're drawn to it and I've always loved that about you." She sniffled and whipped her nose on her sleeve.

"Heck, I love everything about you. So, I know that Zim…whether he was ever real or not, was like the Holy Grail. He must've been everything you'd ever want in a friend, even if you hated him more than anything."

Dib was frozen and the girl kept talking kept speaking his every thought out into the air. "And how can I compare to that? To a war and to a mystery that needs to be solved. I'm not mysterious…I'm so, normal and boring." The wobbly smile collapsed.

"SO, I'm sorry," Gretchen stepped forward and kissed him once on the cheek. He felt the moisture there now, cooling in the air. "that I couldn't be him and also that we can't even be friends."

"W-why?" He asked, numbly annoyed that it came out in a whisper. 

"Because, silly, I love you. And I hate that I do. I hate that you'll never love me. But, mostly I hate…him." Gretchen pulled away from Dib and with a final, pain filled look, turned and walked away as fast as she possibly could. 

Dib had never hated himself so much. But, he also had never felt so free.


	6. The Plan

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "No, you fool! Our plan. We can set it into action." Zim released the chair and pumped his fists in excitement. Dib on the other hand was not so enthused, crossing his arms and setting his jaw. 
> 
> "Well, sure. Except for the fact that I don't know your stupid plan Zim. I've stolen from my dad for you and I'm helping fix up the old lab. But, I have no idea why. Are you going to share soon?"

“Therapy? What do you mean, therapy?” Dib screeched at his father, eyes wide and fists clenched. This could not happen again. Membrane sighed and turned away from his latest experiment. 

“I mean what I say Dib. It seems that these last few weeks you’ve been…unstable again. I’ve talked with your observers and they agree.” The boy’s face squelched up and his father sighed again, walking forward and placing his hand on his son’s shoulder. “I’m sorry, son. I know you hate it. But, it’s for your own well being. I just want you to be happy and healthy.” 

Dib breathed out slowly through his nose, nostrils flaring before he nodded stiffly. Membrane returned the gesture, before glancing down at his watch. “Oh. I need to pick up your sister from herself defense class. See you in a bit. We can talk about this more.” With that Membrane swirled from the room leaving Dib to wallow in his own brooding thoughts. And he had plenty of them. 

_“Human. What is this Therapy thing? And why does it make you so upset?”_ The voice beside him asked. And Dib knew that if he looked over he would see a vague shape. A blur of magenta and green. 

But, he didn’t look, instead he glared at all the science equipment before sighing and letting it go, letting it float into the breeze. Just like he did with everything else. Dib found it hard to stay truly angry.

“It’s paying someone to look at your problems from a different view point and they try to help you solve them and fix them. I used to go to them all the time after…” Dib bit down on his tounge, refusing to think about when that green house had just disappeared one day. “But, for a while I’ve been on my own. Guess, they’ve noticed that I’ve been talking to myself a lot lately.”

_“But, you’ve been—“_

“Talking to an invisible alien.” Dib whirled on the irken, finally looking at the blur, gold eyes searching. There was something there alright. He could almost make out the edges of his uniform and the glimmer of giant,red eyes. “Why can’t anyone else see you, Zim?” 

Silence. Several minutes went past before Dib finally shook his head and looked away.   
“Fine.”

 _“Dib…I must remain hidden.”_ Zim finally responded, hesitantly. Dib’s lips parted as he narrowed his eyes. 

“Why?”  
 _  
“I have my reasons, human. They are great, I assure you. Now, let us get down to business and not worry ourselves about such stupid things.”_ The human sighed and nodded, forcing all thoughts of therapy from his mind. There would be time to worry about that later. Just as there would be time later to force Zim to tell him. He walked towards the darker part of his father’s lab, towards the wall of filing cabinets. 

His father organized his files meticulously, a record of every experiment he’d ever done was kept here and Dib searched until he found the right one in the very back of one of the last cabinets. It was labeled, _“Divided Integration Biogenesis_ ”.

Dib swallowed and pulled the folder from its spot, stuffing it under his trench coat and closing the filing cabinet with a soft click that sounded louder in the near silence.   
He took the stairs two at a time, hearing the irken behind him. They fled from the house, standing in the dusk light, the air chilly enough that he pulled his collar up. 

“Do you really think this will work?” The boy asked, brow furrowed. Two sets of feet hit down on the side walk. A presence was beside him, that gave off warmth and seemed to becoming more and more solid as time went on. 

_“Yes. As long as we do it right…”_  
\--

The room was warm. Too warm and stuffy. Dib stared down at his shoes as the soft click-click of a pen rent the otherwise quiet air. He didn’t want to be here. It wasn’t that he was upset really. This had once been a weekly thing. Dib wasn’t afraid of this therapist or remotely embarrassed to be here. He knew what was true. 

It was just this atmosphere. It reminded him of that day and the days afterward that felt like weeks. 

Finally, with a soft huff of impatience, Dib lifted his chin and stared back at Dr.Mernly um, sternly. “So what is it Doc? What’s the new game plan? More drugs? Exercise? Pull me away from the paranormal.”

Mernly straightened in his seat and frowned slightly, ceasing his clicking on the pen. “No. None of that, Dob, we have a ne--”  
“Dib.”  
“What?”  
“Dib. You called me Dob. Again.” 

“Oh. Yes. Well, Dib. We have a new plan for you. Have you ever thought of Interning at your father’s work?” Dib recoiled, thinking back to a time when he had done just that.

Though it really hadn’t been an internship. Just his dad, yanking him around and trying to show him the ropes of life at Membrane Enterprises. It had usually ended in disaster. It seems that dangerous chemicals and a young boy’s curiosity don’t mix. 

“Um. Done something like it. Why?” Don’t know why he had to ask that. Dib knew what he was suggesting. The only question was, ‘how was this going to help him’?

“It will keep you busy. Keep your mind off of Zig.”   
“Zim.”  
“What?”  
“Zim. The center of my deranged brain. The reason I’m here. Zim. Not, Zig.”

“Oh. Okay well,” Dib rolled his eyes and leaned back in the chair, crossing his legs and waiting for the inevitable. “This will be good for you. Plus, you like science.”

“I do like science. I just hate science. Or at least Dad’s kind of science.” So maybe he was grumbling a bit. Why did everyone want him to be like his father? Or at least everyone who wasn’t a green skinned moron. 

“It’ll all work out. You start Monday.” 

\--

Dib started Monday. Or at least that’s what he gave everyone the impression he was doing. It was easy to stride right into the giant, white building with his own father’s face all over it when people actually expected him there. It was actually kind of nice not to get tazered. 

_“Do you know what you’re doing?”_ Zim asked, struggling to keep up. 

“Yes, I know what I’m doing. We’ve been over it a thousand times. Now shut up, I have to look normal.” 

_“Pfft. Fat chance.”_ Dib fought the urge to flip off his alien counterpart, focusing instead on leaving him behind in the dust and shoving open the front doors. It smelled like science. If science could have a smell. Like chemicals, sweat, expo markers and old books. 

People were everywhere. Walking every which way, a loud buzz in the air as they murmured and machines moved. Elevators shooting up and down. The intercom exploding with a deep voice that could only be his father’s. 

Behind him a low whistle had his ears perking. _“Neat. But, still pathetic in comparison to—“_  
“The Empire’s. I know. Shush. It’s the most advanced thing we have.” Dib glanced around and then back at the blur behind him. It was like not wearing his glasses. Or looking at something underwater with no goggles. He took a deep breath and nodded at the Irken, walking off towards the elevator. Zim rushed to keep up, dodging people and objects. 

_“Stink-Brain. Be wary of these people. They are the smartest of your stupid race. Like highly advanced monkies.”_ Dib found an elevator that was empty and promptly stepped inside, glancing out and seeing the irken, so red and green, mixed in with that sea of white.

“Yeah. But, I’m smarter.” With that he pressed the close button and then the level that he wanted. He was supposed to go see Dad. That could wait. He had a mission, as Zim put it. Why he was listening to the Irken he would never know. 

Except that Dib did know. He knew very much why he was listening to the moron. And it had happened somewhere between Gretchen breaking up with him and the idea to steal from his father. 

Or maybe it had started years ago. All Dib knew was that he was unshakably loyal to the stupid head despite everything they’d been through. Sure, they’d fought. And Dib had tried to save the earth from the evil alien’s conquest only to discover that Zim wasn’t exactly competent at much of anything, let alone destroying the world. He could get close. But somehow he managed to be completely clueless. 

And that hatred had disappeared not too long after that revelation. 

They hadn’t been friends when Zim left. But, they’d proclaimed some sort of truce at least. They didn’t try to kill each other anymore and if they’d sat together to at lunch a few times well that was just purely paranoia. 

Then the green house had disappeared. Dib had tried to figure out why so many times and so far Zim had been pretty closed lipped about that too. 

The elevator doors slid open, revealing, surprise, another white hallway that Dib stepped into with as much confidence as he could muster. This had to be done in order to complete the plan. 

The plan.

_When Dib had come home from therapy, Zim had been there as always, lounging about in his room and being a pest. The alien hadn’t really left him all that often. Usually, he left by the time Dib laid down for bed at least._

_“How was the throw-up-ey?”_

_“Therapy, Dummy. It was…fine.” It had been. Except for the internship thing. That he hadn’t expected. More drugs. He could’ve dealt with that. Usually, he flushed them down the toilet or hid them in the couch cushions or dropped them in the vase or threw them under his fridge. His house was littered with discarded pills of every size, shape and type._

_After he’d…kind of lost it the doctors had prescribed him tons of drugs and for a while he’d taken them. But, things had started to seem better and Dib had started dumping them. In fact, the last time he’d ever taken them was a few days before he’d heard Zim’s voice in the park. Huh._

_“You’re lying. Tell Zim the truth.” The blur of an Irken demanded, arms crossed. Dib wished he could glean a proper expression but, as it was he found it hard to even look at Zim let alone search for any emotions in his face. It was just weird and kind of made his eyes go cross-eyed trying to focus._

_The human’s coat got thrown aside and he plopped down into his computer chair, shaking the mouse to rouse the machine from sleep. Maybe there would be an update on the Swollen Eyeball’s end. Not that he would be able to do anything about it. They’d blocked him from accepting missions a while ago. He guessed he could hack it…_

_“I am. It was fine. Just,” he bit the inside of his cheek and chewed it slowly, thinking. “well, I’m going to be my dad’s new intern at his job. Which I hate. But, I can survive. It’s just boring as hell.” Suddenly his computer chair whirled around to face the Zim-blur._

_“Membrane Enterprise’s? You know what this means correct?”_

_“Um. Discounts on Super Toast?” Dib guessed, sarcastically._

_“No, you fool! Our plan. We can set it into action.” Zim released the chair and pumped his fists in excitement. Dib on the other hand was not so enthused, crossing his arms and setting his jaw._

_“Well, sure. Except for the fact that I don’t know your stupid plan Zim. I’ve stolen from my dad for you and I’m helping fix up the old lab. But, I have no idea why. Are you going to share soon?” The alien froze and turned back to Dib. Or at least that what he thought Zim did._

_“Are you serious? You haven’t figured it out yet?” Zim snorted, against the laws of nature and stalked around the room, arrogantly. “Well, I’m not too surprised. You aren’t exactly the smartest zebra in the petting zoo.”_

_“Your metaphors are weird.” Dib combated, turning back to his computer and pretending not to be interested. Inside it was killing him though. What was going on? What was Zim planning and why was he letting himself get yanked around for this idiot? A million questions and so few answers. It was bubbling up inside of him and Dib knew that sooner or later he would just explode with curious-energy. Now was not that time._

_Zim sniffed and bounced over the few clothes that were on Dib’s floor to stand by his chair and stare with him at the screen. “Think, Dib-Human. Use that slightly larger than average brain of yours. I left. I haven’t been back for years. My form isn’t exactly stable. And the longer I’m here the more stable it becomes. Why is this?”_

_Dib clicked, distractedly, his mind suddenly roaring with even more questions and trying to put all the variables into one single out come. Preferably one that didn’t mean he was insane. “I’m not—“_

_“Crazy. Of course you are. But, no. Zim is as real as eh, that great jar of pencils.” Zim pointed at said jar and Dib looked merely out of habit. It was a pretty nice jar of pencils._

_“Well, then…” Dib frowned, an idea suddenly occurring to him. Spinning around in the chair, he didn’t give Zim the chance to move as he quickly moved his hand to touch him, swiping his whole arm across the irken’s stomach. Only there was nothing to touch. His entire hand went through Zim. “Y-You’re..”_

_“A hologram. Something seen from inside your brain. I planted a chip in there, Dib-thing before I left. Just in case.” Zim murmured, glaring down at his own fake body._

_“In case of what?” Dib asked, afraid to hear the answer and yet knowing he had to hear it. The alien finally looked up at his human companion and bared his teeth in a half grin/half sneer._

_“In case I died in battle.”_


End file.
